Retribution
by T. M. Winston
Summary: Here he comes, there he goes. One moment his eyes are nice, another his eye glows. With a smile and wink the revenant tells his skelly puns.When the revenant smiles and winks you know your life is done. Beware, beware oh fallen child with your dreams of execution. Beware, beware oh fallen child, beware the retribution.
Sans couldn't quite recall how long this song and dance had gone on. He remembered it starting with a flower, and eventually ending with a blast from his blasters. Time went on for a little while longer then, enough time passing for Sans to relax into normality. Then the kid showed up, and the whole shitstorm started up again. It hasn't stopped, it hasn't gotten better.

People kept dying.

At first when the flower started killing people, Sans tried to save everyone. Tried so damn hard. Those were better days. Days when he hadn't been lazy, and apathetic. Days where he would work endlessly on that damn machine, and try his hardest to remember a man who had since been erased from reality. Days when he had cooked dinner for Pap and himself, and days where he had worked with Asgore. He never quite got it right, and when it all just kept getting reset anyways...

Well, Sans thought he could afford not to care.

He was right. People would die, Sans would maybe kill the flower, and suddenly the people were alive again. Papyrus was alive again. He figured so long as time reset, he didn't have to exactly worry about saving everyone. He just needed to find a way to stop the damn resets. What better way then the machine Gaster left behind, the one that not only erased him from reality, but sent him everywhere 'cross time and space? The damn thing never worked though, and hasn't to this day. Sans lost hope of it ever working. Lost hope of ever finding a way to stop this loop.

Eventually, he lost hope in nearly everything save his brother, Papyrus.

Through Papyrus, Sans had enough hope to just keep living. To keep himself from 'falling down'. He hoped for his brother to have a better life than him, that Pap would be a better skele-man. Heh.

He lost his strength. His considerable stamina and physical strength waned. He grew more tired easily, and he simply didn't see the point in basic non-important tasks like cleaning when it would get dirty anyway. The only things he needed were his agility, and his magical strength. Come to think of it, his agility had slowed as well. Not nearly where it was once, as Sans remembered sparring Asgore and giving the old king a run for his money, even beating him more than once. Now, Asgore would wipe the floor with him. Not that it mattered really. Asgore would fall too, simply because he was to soft-hearted. Sans envied that. Asgore knew of the many timelines, even if he never really recalled exactly what happened in each of them. Sans didn't remember everything anymore either, though maybe that was due to lack of caring. 'Sides, his notes made up for what he couldn't remember himself. Laziness maybe, but whatever.

With his stats falling to nearly zero, many believed Sans to be weak. He didn't disagree. He hated that he never tried to stop that damn kid from killing his friends, but he had learned his lesson. Nothing he did mattered. Time would go on, and his friends would come back only to die and so on and so forth. He was tired of it, and the exhaustion had settled into his bones. He didn't care that the world was stuck anymore. He didn't care that he had failed in nearly every aspect of his life. All he cared about was the good food, the bad laughs, and his brother being alive right here and right now.

Except his brother was dead, the food and laughs had ended, and time was starting to look like it was simply going to... _end._

* * *

"heya"

Sans had always seen the golden light of the judgement hall as comforting, especially after the first time he had seen the sun. After getting to the surface, and time resetting anyway, he had come here to his real post and cried. Cried for hours, in sheer disbelief and misery. The golden light was the closest to real sunlight Sans had seen in the Underground, and the birdsong that filtered down through the barrier helped. If he focused hard enough, he could maybe feel the wind whisper through his bones.

"you've been busy, huh?"

Sans watched the bane of his existence walk down the hall, the kid's face expressionless, her clothes covered in dust. A knife was held in her grip, and Sans could feel her LOVE from where he stood, making his spine shiver from the utter wrongness of it. He knew it wasn't really Frisk at there, holding a dust-stained knife. No kid would be able to take on every monster in the Underground in a fight and win entirely on their own, even with a human soul. If that had been the case, the Underground would've already been eradicated. Nah, something else had come over the kid, and Frisk simply wasn't there anymore. At least.. that's what Sans told himself. He couldn't be sure. He really hoped he was right, and that it wasn't really Frisk he was about to fight for the rest of time.

"you know, i've got a question for you. do you think that someone can change? that anyone can be a good person, if they just try?"

Pap had believed that, had believed it in his bones and his heart. Had died believing that. Sans... didn't believe that. Never had. In a way, it was kinda funny how different Sans was from his brother. His cool, younger bro that had been the light of his life. Now that light was gone, and Sans wasn't sure it would come back. Truth be told, it was funny that if Sans looked deep inside himself, he found that he didn't care that the world was about to end. He just wanted his brother back.

"hehehehehe..."

Laughing aloud, Sans discretely shook his head. No more time to dwell.

"well, here's a better question. **Do you want to have a bad time? 'Cuz if you take another step forward, you're reeaallyy not gonna like what happens next"**

Sans had let his lights go out, no longer feeling the need to keep up pretenses. He couldn't afford to make mistakes. Couldn't afford to not care anymore.

The kid took a single step forward, a smirk on her face and flash of red in her eyes beneath her auburn bangs. Sans could feel his perma-grin widen just a smidge. He closed his eyes.

"welp. sorry old lady, this is why i never make promises."

Sans took a breath, his eyes still closed. Focus. Just a little longer, and then he could dunk the sorry little demon back to hell. He took another deep breath, and it almost smelled like the clean fresh air of a surface that was held on a gilded string just in front of him. Shame that the gilded string was just a poison, and the surface would never really be open to them. It was probably a nice day out, 'cuz Sans could hear thunder if it were raining if he tried hard enough, and he knew the chill of winter when it came through the barrier. Sans knew the world went on outside the barrier, but for the monsters behind the barrier they were trapped, time obeying a master here rather than running free. It was unnatural, it was wrong. It was everything Sans and Dr. Gaster had once hoped for. Maybe it was their efforts that ultimately caused this time-loop hell. Hell if he knew.

"it's a beautiful day outside. birds are singing. flowers are blooming. on days like this, kids like you..."

Sans let it all go, and snapped his eyes open, letting his magic run loose for the first time in a very, VERY, long time. The utter hatred of the demon before him caused his bones to shake and his eye to alight with righteous fury, judgement ready to be dished out upon the sinners. Except this wasn't business, wasn't about justice. It was vengeance, plain and simple. Sans liked simple.

" **Should be burning in hell.** "

His last part of his opening speech was said softly, but with more malice than he had felt in his whole long life. He slammed the kid into the floor, bones stabbing upwards, and she barely managed to dodge. Slivers had gotten into her foot, and they dug deeper and deeper, bring retribution upon her. Sans gave her no break however, throwing her through a wave of bones which scarped and tore flesh. She screamed, the smirk gone and the red dancing with fury. Then the blasters came, and her royal bitchiness was turned to ash. Sans' perma-grin twitched upward just a little more when he saw that.

It wouldn't always be this easy to kill the kid, but he would enjoy it while it lasted.

* * *

"heya. you look frustrated about something. **Guess I'm pretty good at my job huh?"**

* * *

"hmmm... that expression. that's the face of someone whos died ten times in a row. hey, congrats! the big one-oh! let's invite all your friends over for a big shindig! we can have pie, and hot dogs, and... hmm, wait. something's not right. **You don't have any friends**."

* * *

"let's just get to the point."

* * *

Sans lost count at 50, but he was pretty sure the demon had kept count. She looked more and more frustrated everytime, and Sans reveled in it. Didn't matter how close he came to death, how many times he tore her apart. The rage on her face just before she died was gratifying. He still had it in him to dunk the worst beings in existence. That was always satisfying. Speaking of, there she was, stumbling in.

One of the only good things about the resets? Sans was always ready to go. It was an odd feeling, not having to let his magic recharge, but he didn't want to thing on that. Less work he had to do. Less work was good work. For a moment, the two simply stood there, and Sans was just about to speak when the knife went flying past his face. That was new, and someone was eager. He would oblige. The baster turned the golden light a deadly electric blue as a gasterblaster the size of the hall opened fire. The kid never stood a chance, and Sans liked it that way.

Speaking of, there she was, stumbling in.

One of the only good things about the resets? Sans was always ready to go. It- he dodged to the side and let loose with his blaster. He somehow missed, but that was fine. The pillar she was hiding behind was the perfect place to send a bone outward towards her vulnerable neck.

Speaking of, there she was, stumbling in.

One - dodge, fire, bone to the neck, miss, bone through the abdomen. Shit. Sans was becoming pre-

Speaking of, there she w-

Dodge, fire, bone to the neck, miss, bone through the abdomen, miss, dodge, bone in the heart.

Speaking of -

Dodge, fire, bone to the neck, miss, bone through the abdomen, miss, dodge, bone in the heart, miss, dodge, bone through the... _everything_.

That was messy. Sans puked.

* * *

Sans was exhausted. Somewhere along the way, the demon had said "500".

Well, more like carved it into the ground before getting close enough to fight him. After dunking her again, he had taken a look at what she carved at the beginning of the hall. At the end of every fight since, there was a new number on the ground. Little bitch knew he saw it, and that was just fine with him. The most recent one was "1999".

Damn.

The flower went down before it reached 200, so this demon was really something else when it came to being determined. He remembered each and every fight, but it was blurring together in his head. He couldn't keep it up forever, but then again, neither could she. Sans could see it, the beginning of it at least. She was breaking as well, frustrated by her lack of progress. It was enough to keep Sans in the fight, enough to keep him remembering each and every fight before in order to be unpredictable. It was hard, but hopefully it would be worth it. So long as he could see Pap ag- dodge, bone through the everything again. His front was covered in red. Sans's didn't puke this time, but the urge was there.

Humans, always so messy.

* * *

"9,999"

Son... of... a... bitch.

Sans was beyond tired now. The fight was nearing it's end, and he was exhausted. The little shortcuts he used mid-battle threw the kid off their game enough for them to be out of healing items. They were in a bad shape physically, and Sans was in a bad shape mentally. Taxing work, to work against time for over 9,000 resets. He was predictable now, save for his shortcuts. Echos of past timelines that Sans used with glee. Once or twice he had even stopped time for a moment to summon unavoidable blasters and blasted that bitch back to the stone age. That was taxing though, and he had passed out right after. He never did again. Vaguely, he remembered doing it to talk to the kid way back when, when he had tried to warn the kid 'bout the flower. The kid already knew about the flower then, but Sans didn't know that.

They were panting, burns and rubble all over the once pristine hall. Split bones and cuts in soft areas of stone were evident of the demon's attempts, but it was all they had to show for their efforts. Silence reigned in the hall. Sans wondered what Asgore was doing, but knew better than to believe the king would help him. The king had lost his fighting spirit a long time ago, along with his faith. Sans knew he just wanted to see his family again. Sans could relate.

Feeling his 20,000th wind coming, Sans took a breath and prepared himself once more. Until the demon did something that he had been hoping and praying and wishing for, but knew better than to believe after so many halfway points being long since past.

The kid dropped her knife, and dropping to her knees with it, and she looked down.

Sans didn't approach, figuring that it could be a trap. She was still near the knife, close enough to kill him due to her unnatural speed. She was shaking, and Sans knew it was her turn. He could cheat, but she wasn't even considering her options at the moment. Sans considered using a bone to knock away the knife and just kill her when she finally looked up again. Tears were rushing down her face, which was unusual but hey, Sans had caused a pretty tremendous amount of pain just now. Tears were kinda expected. If he weren't fighting, he would cry too. Shaking, she spread her arms out into a mock hug of the air, and turned her hands upward in surrender. She was probably in too much pain to speak. Sans bit.

"you're.. you're sparing me?"

She nodded slowly, but with no less determination than she had shown previously in swinging her knife. Sans breathed in relief, hardly believing it.

"finally. buddy, pal, i know how hard that must be, to make that choice. to turn back on everything you worked up too."

Worked. Like the demonic bitch knew what it was like to really work and fail anyway.

"i just want you to know, i won't let it go to waste."

Sans approached her, his own arms extending. She leaned forward desperately, tears on her young, innocent face.

"c'mere, pal."

Bones shot out and pierced her everything once more, blood splashing onto his face and jacket and shit, soaking into his shorts and staining his white, fluffy, slippers. The slippers had been a pristine gift from Pap, and Sans always kept them clean. She cried out in pain, unable to lean forward. Sans looked into her eyes impassively, yet her arms kept stretching out towards him. Her body slipped down the bones, and her hands never stopped reaching. Finally, one landed on his left slipper, leaving a bloody handprint.

"if we're really friends... **You won't come back**."

Sans breathed out, looking down at his handiwork. He knew it would reset again soon. Still, victory was victory. He knew she would come back anyway, and they would be here together forever in a twisted dance of death. He trotted back to his spot in the hall, blood dripping down his jacket, and leaned against a broken pillar. Dust and rubble felt like rain onto his once blue jacket, but he didn't care. It would reset soon, might as well catch a few seconds of sleep before he would be standing upright, watching her stumble in again. Come to think of it, had she always stumbled in? He couldn't quite...

"Sans? My god, Sans... what happened here?"

Sans knew that voice, that was the voice of the king. What the hell...

His eyesockets popped open. "asgore? what're you doing here fluffybuns?"

Asgore's horrified face said nothing, merely gaping down at Sans. Sans looked down himself, to see that his front was still drenched in the demon's blood, and the demon was still strung up on the bones that sealed her fate. What the hell, why didn't it reset?"

"I... When the sounds of combat stopped I came forth. I... what did you do?!" Asgore whispered, horrified.

"Yeah, trashbag. What did you do?"

That damn flower was behind the king, and was looking just as horrified somehow, despite it being a demonic little shit. Sans took a look back at his handiwork.

"i did my job, your majesty. judged it, then dunked it. i'm here all day." Sans joked, but it was empty.

Asgore didn't laugh, only surveying the battlefield. "I... did not expect the human to be the cause for such devastation." The king said, changing the subject as he took in the battered hall. Sans took no note of that, instead focusing on the flower.

"hey plant, how long was i out?"

The flower shook itself a little somehow, and looked back at him blankly. It's yellow pedals were wilted. "Not even five minutes."

Wow. Everytime Sans had fallen asleep after a fight, time had reset. This was brand new.

"Sans. You say you did your job and judged the human... you are certain then, that they deserved such a... grisly fate?" Asgore asked slowly, the horror slowly being replaced with grim resolve as he looked down upon him.

Sans looked up at his king, and nodded. "all this and more, fluffybuns. kid was a real demon."

Asgore sighed sadly then, as though his worst fears were realized. "I should have helped you then, rather than leave you to this. In truth, I only emerged due to the flower warning me of the human's approach." The king said quietly.

Sans didn't know how to react to knowledge that he had been left to die for 20,000 resets. If he thought about it though, he wasn't really surprised. He had the feeling it had come down to him anyway. The king's cowardice was honestly expected, so Sans didn't really blame the guy. Though he knew he should have.

"it's fine. it's what i signed up for anyway. if uh, you don't mind... i've goat some things to do right now..." Sans joked awkwardly, suddenly exhausted and filled with the need to just get away. Asgore blinked, sadness melting from his face.

"Of course. You must be exhausted. Go home, rest. I shall inform the others that the danger has passed." Sans nodded his understanding, and tiredly made his way out of the hall towards the throne room. Asgore knew of his shortcuts already, so the king didn't question his direction.

"Sans."

Sans stopped his limping, and turned to the king's pensive face. The king smiled softly.

"Thank you Sans. You're a hero."

Sans didn't feel like a hero. He felt like a murderer.

* * *

When he got home, the first thing he did was throw the slipper with the bloody handprint into his lab. He threw it in randomly with disgust, but in the back of his mind knew it could be used as evidence that this timeline had happened when the next reset came along. He just hoped he had his brother back by then. From there, Sans limped into his room. He wanted to rest, wanted to sleep away the horror of death and grief that his life had become.

Wanted to forget that he was a murderer.

Stifling sobs, the revenant closed his eyes, and let oblivion claim him.

It wasn't the same as turning to dust, but he could pretend that it was.

* * *

When Sans awoke to the smell of spaghetti he sighed.

Another reset.

The nightmare last night still haunted him, and he swore he could still feel blood dripping off his skull. He shivered. Gross. Still, it was just a dream. Just a -

Sans barely held in the scream when he saw the bloody slipper in his lab, the handprint staring back, bearing the evidence of murderous retribution.


End file.
